24 Hours to Love
by DoctorJekyll
Summary: House gets an overnight pass at Mayfield and finds Lydia home alone . Will they be able to cope with their goodbyes ? Can she help him to heal and to find love again ?
1. Chapter 1

24 Hours to Love

_**** OK, here's what could have happened at the end of the season premier. Of course I changed up the beginning a little to give them some time alone. *******_

"You're leaving." He said as she opened the door.

She stepped outside, and stood before him, the door to her house ajar, inside he could see boxes stacked in the hallway, the remnants of her life.

"My husband took the kids with him to Arizona this morning," she said "his parents will watch them while I finish the house, I…"

He leaned forward and kissed her. Softly he pushed his lips to hers, and then leaned his forehead against hers. "I don't want you to go." He whispered.

She lifted a hand and placed it on his cheek. "I don't want to go," she said.

"Then don't." He whispered, though he knew the words were pointless even as he uttered them.

She looked at him and shook her head, tears in her eyes. "My children," she said "I will never leave them."

He stepped towards her and she fell into his arms. "Come inside," she cried, pulling him back into the house, into the hallway. "We have only tonight." She said leaning in and pushing her lips to his.

Her mouth opened against his and she kissed him drawing him into her. He stopped for a moment and rested his forehead against hers. One hand rested on his cane and the other was on the small of her back. "Lydia…I…" he shook his head softly and closed his eyes.

"I feel the same way as you." She answered, pecking him softly on the lips. "I feel the same way."

Slowly she pulled away from him, and holding his hand pulled him down the hallway into a darkened room. Wordlessly they stepped inside and she turned to face him. She took his cane and rested it besides a dresser. Her hands slid up his chest and over his shoulders removing his coat. He inhaled deeply and let it fall to the ground at his feet. Then she reached up and started working on his buttons, he let her get half way through before reaching forward and kissing her.

The rest came slowly, almost methodically. He pulled her shirt over her arms, unhooked her skirt and let it fall at her feet. He pulled off his t-shirt and sat on the bed to toe off his shoes and socks and pulled her towards him. Silently they lay down together and he pulled her into his arms.

One kiss led to another, and another. Their faces close together, their breath falling into each other's mouths. He could barely stop holding her long enough to undue her bra. Their bodies were pressed so close together in their tender embrace that she could hardly squeeze her hand between them to undue his jeans.

And then it was there, they were both naked and he was on top of her, and before he could reach down and touch her she opened her legs and wrapped them up around his, and she could feel him. Every part of him ; his heart beating in his chest, his breaths, his need, his love his everything , and all she wanted in that moment was to take him in, and make love to him in the most caring and loving way that she could. All she wanted was for him to feel all of the love that she had inside of her, and all of the love that she knew he needed.

He pushed inside of her, and she took him with a small gasp, wrapping her arms tightly around his back and neck. And he rose slowly and found a gentle deep, rocking rhythm that elicited the smallest moans from her, and the most amazing feeling for him. He had never felt the need to keep a woman so close to him while having sex. He didn't even want to pull apart to thrust into her. He held her tightly, every part of his chest pressed against hers, even their pelvises pressed together and rocking in perfect unison. Creating a friction that was enough to send them both over the edge.

She pushed her face onto his shoulder, and snaked one hand into his short scruffy hair, moaning out his name in a breathy whisper that sent shivers through his entire body. At this moment, she was everything to him. He pulled her even tighter against him, and his body shook with force before he collapsed besides her.

Later, he lay on his side, propped up on one elbow, looking down at her while he gently ran the fingers of his other hand up and down her abdomen, pausing briefly to trace the long line of a scar stretched across her. "C-section?" he asked.

"Yes" she answered.

"Why, so big? Was it done in Germany" he asked sarcastically, with a smile.

"No," she laughed "And, you know, Germany is not the middle ages. It was an emergency."

"Hmm," he traced the scar softly back and forth, "What kind of emergency?"

"The chord was around his neck…."

"Nuchal chord," he cut her off "was it severe?"

"He was blue. The doctor ran off with him to the table, all I saw was a little blue arm bouncing up and down." She reached a hand down and slid her fingers between his.

"What was that like?" he asked quietly.

"Well," she turned to face him, "It was awful, I think I shut down. Everything just stopped until I heard his cries." She paused and looked up at him. "Then the doctor showed him to me and, Ahhh" she took a deep breath "everything hit me all at once."

"Everything what?"

She laughed softly, "I take it you don't have children?" She leaned forward and pressed her lips onto his. "When you look at your child for the very first time, it is like feeling the strongest surge of emotions that you can imagine."She paused for a moment, and kissed him again softly, then asked "Do you live alone?"

"Yeah. No wife, no girlfriend, no friends, well actually I have one friend."

"You are a doctor, a specialist in diagnostics, your job must be very stressful, is that the reason for your isolation?" she asked gently

"My personality is the reason for my isolation." He laughed

"Somehow, I find that hard to believe." She placed a hand against his scruffy cheek "are you really so alone?"

He rolled away from her and onto his back. "I was with a woman for a long time, we never thought about marriage." He placed an arm behind his head "I guess she was as driven as I was."

Lydia placed a hand on his shoulder, "Greg, I'm sorry, I am not trying to pry, I just wanted to know a little bit about you…"

"She left me after my leg." He said cutting her off.

"Ahhh, your leg, was it an accident or…."

"My leg," he continued "I got a blood clot, basically, during a game of golf. It went undiagnosed, and long story short all the muscle in my leg was removed, against my will."

"How against your will?"

"I was in a coma, she was my proxy. She knew I didn't want to go that route, the woman who approved the procedure, my boss. She knew as well." He said stiffly.

"You are very bitter, I can see that." She said softly rubbing his shoulder gently and leaning forward to kiss him lightly on his chest.

"They thought it was the best choice medically, but I got left a cripple, with a lifetime of pain, a drug addiction, Mayfield…you know…It just…got…out of hand." He didn't know why he told her, why it was so easy to lay besides this woman, and tell her things that usually had been hidden behind a wall of sarcasm.

They lay silently for a while, him blinking in the semi darkness, her rubbing his arm and shoulder gently, until she leaned up on one elbow. "May I see your leg?" she asked.

He didn't answer, just continued his steady rhythm of inhaling and exhaling. His mind trying hard to keep the Zen like calmness that this woman seemed able to surround herself with.

"Greg, "she asked again, reaching for the sheet that covered them both "may I?"

Without looking at her, he nodded slowly.

He was frozen, terrified almost. Not about her reaction, or his scar, or his leg or any of that - I mean they only had 24 hrs after all. He was terrified that he had actually after so many years reached such a level of intimacy with someone.

Slowly she pulled the sheet to the side, revealing his thigh, but not uncovering his nakedness. She did not want him to feel 100 percent exposed under her glare.

"Wow," she whispered "that is a very big scar. I am so sorry."

Slowly tentatively she reached her fingertips to hover over the scar, and then she laid them down and let them trace gently over the marred skin. Beneath her he flinched.

"Am I hurting you?" she asked

He shook his head from side to side. She continued tracing, slowly, tenderly over the contours of his damaged flesh, the rivets, and depths and raised bumps of skin. Slowly she leaned forward and placed her lips against the skin, brushing it ever so slowly with a breath of warm air across the surface. He stopped sharply mid inhale. Her free hand began stroking his inner thigh, and as she leaned down and pressed her parted lips against his scar, her hand reached slowly beneath the sheet.

"Lydia," he croaked sitting up, "I can't…" he grabbed his pants from besides the bed and limped nakedly out of the room.

"Shit, "she muttered flopping back on the bed. She had pushed him too far. She had pushed him away.

She got out of bed and reached for her robe which hung off a hook on the back of the door, putting it on she headed into the kitchen. He stood in front of the sink, buttoning his pants.

"Greg," she said approaching him and laying her hand and on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I wanted to…"

"I know what you were about to do. You don't have to…"

"I know I don't have to," she answered reaching her arms around him and pressing herself against his bare back. "I don't have to anything with you. I want to. And, I wanted to show you that your scar means nothing to me."

"Well," he answered coldly pulling her arms from around him and turning around. "It means everything to me."

"I know it does. I can see that. And, I'm sorry." She answered gently. "I wanted to share a moment of intimacy with you."

"This whole day has been nothing but intimacy." He said. "What are we doing? What's the point?"

"The point," she answered, leaning up against the counter "is to enjoy one another's company until it's time to go. And whether that is by sharing intimacies or making love is up to us." She shrugged. "I could be packing alone, and you could be at Mayfield, would that be any better?"

"Then let me help you pack." He said drumming his fingers against the counter.

She looked up at him and laughed. "Ok, in that box with the dividers, go all of the glasses. I guess all except one."

He grabbed the box and opened the cabinet above his head, "any music?" he asked as he reached for the first glass.

The end

_***OK, let me know if you like it, because believe me there is plenty more to come….for those of you who know me "ping ping ping" is what keeps me going! Reviews !!*****_


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

An hour or so passed wordlessly between them. He finished the glasses , moved on to mugs, she finished the plates, then went to stand by the sink and stared out of the window.

House closed the last box and went to stand behind her . "I'm sorry." He said resting his hands on her shoulders. "Before, I didn't mean to… I'm just not used to…."

She placed her hand over his, but did not turn around. "I'm sorry too. We know so little about one another."

He laughed softly, "it's probably better that way."

She turned around to face him. "I have two sons," she said looking him in the eyes , "and a dog, and two cats. I love plants and animals and art and music. I love a quiet and tidy house." She laughed softly, "but I do not have one. I spend a lot of time reading, and writing,and…at Mayfield."

"Anything else ?" he asked

"Yes," she placed a hand on his cheek and held it there. "This, has never happened to me before."

Slowly he leaned forward and kissed her. "You don't usually go after the loonies at Mayfield ?" he asked.

"No," she laughed "you are the first patient from the asylum that I have ever slept with."

"Well," he laughed "How was it ?"

"Perfect" she leaned up and kissed him. "perfect" she repeated before slipping her tongue into his mouth "perfect."

They kissed for a while, her leaning with her back against the sink, him pushing against her.

"Wait," she said breathlessly pulling away "you never told me anything about yourself."

"Hmmm." He leaned forward and kissed her again "nothing to tell."

"Something for sure to tell" she smiled pulling back "you're at Mayfield right ?"

"Ahhhh, the break down story" he pressed his lips together.

"Come on Greg," she wrapped her hands around his waist and pulled his hips into hers. "Any story."

"I run a diagnostics department. I got hooked on pain meds because of my leg. I ended up at Mayfield."

"Why were you in long term instead of re-hab ?" she asked

"Why do you need to know ?" he countered looking at her and narrowing his eyes.

"I've made love to you twice. I don't need to know, I would like to know." She whispered

He shut his eyes for a moment, then looked up at her. "I hallucinated that I spent the night with my boss, going through detox, and having sex. I believed it was true."

"The woman who was involved with your leg ?" she asked

He nodded silently

"Do you have feelings for her ?"

He shrugged, "I thought I did, maybe."

"What changed that ?" she asked gently.

He shook his head. "This, us, the treatment. This is so easy, we just sort of happened. With her, " he looked up, "everything is so complicated."

Lydia leaned her head onto his chest , "life is complicated. Mayfield is a place that exists outside of your normal life. No job, no bills, no responsibilities, only therapy enough to make you well."

He inhaled deeply. "I hallucinated spending time with her," he continued "because I've pretty much spent the past 7 years for Wilson"

"Why ?" she asked "I don't understand ?"

" I don't either" he shrugged. "It just seemed easier to not connect with people than to be disappointed."

"Disapointed in what ?"

"Everything, anything, don't know." He shook his head.

"Greg," she sighed "Are you disappointed with our connection ?"

"No," he shook his head "never."

"Even after I go ?" she whispered meeting his eyes with hers and never pulling away.

"I'm hungry" he said, letting her know this conversation was over. "I've been eating shit institutional food for the past 12 weeks, is there any good take out around here ?"

A few hours later, they sat across from one another at the dinning room table finishing up the last bites of their Italian feast. Between them were scattered take out containers of various pastas, salads and bread.

" 'Marconi's' " she sighed, "I am going to miss this place."

"Me too," he laughed downing the last of the wine in his glass.

"Should you be drinking ?" she asked, reaching forward and placing a hand on top of his.

"Yes. You're leaving tomorrow, I'm going back to the nut house. Yes, I should definitely be drinking." He answered pulling his hand out from underneat hers and pouring himself another glass of wine.

She stood up and walked behind him. He stiffened, not sure of what would happen next. Would she lean over and pull the glass from his hand ? Reprimand him gently, and ask him to stop ? Or simply walk away, having been reminded once and for all that he was a psychiatric patient.

Instead she hugged him softly, from behind. Her hands rubbing gently on his chest. She inhaled deeply, and he could hear a certain shakiness in her breath. "I like you so much." She said simply, pulling him backwards to her chest, "so, so much."

He took one of her hands and pressed it gently over his heart. "Tommorrow is going to suck !" he mumbeled, in an attempt to be truthfull and to break a mood that was quickly spiraling towards despair.

She laughed softly, "Ahhhh," she sighed, "why didn't I meet you sooner in life ?"

He shooh his head, and gently pushed his chair back, then he stood, turned to face her and pulled her into his arms. "You would have hated me." He said resting his chin on top o her head.

"Impossible" she answered, "I don't hate anyone."

"Well, I would have been the first." He laughed "I was stubborn,cold , arrogant, obnoxious, cutting…"

"You wouldn't have been." She whispered, "Not with me."

"I would have pushed you away," he said pulling back and kissing her on the forehead, "or excluded you to the point that you would have left. That's just what I do." He shrugged

"Well," she countered, pulling away as she commenced to stack and clean up the empty take out containers, "Maybe we would have been married, had a big house in Priceton, 3 kids, 2 dogs, you never know."

"I do know." He leaned back against the table and watched her, "and besides, I don't like kids or dogs."

"You are impossible" she said over her shoulder as she headed into the kitchen.

"See," he called out smiling, "I'm already wearing on your nerves, and its been what, less than 24 hours."

"You, are not wearing on my anything." She said coming back in and standing in front of him.

"Will you make love to me again ?" she asked looking up into his eyes.

"Absolutely." He smiled pulling her into his arms for a kiss , and the another and another. Before stepping back and taking her hand , and limping down the hallway into the bedroom.

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Later he lay on his back, and she was sprawled across his chest. He traced languid circles on her back. "So," he asked "Tomorrow ?"

"Tomorrow the movers come and I go." She answered kissing his chest.

"Tomorrow night you will be I your bed in Arizona." He said into the darkened room.

"Yes," she said softly, "And you ?"

"Mayfield I guess, getting ready for my release."

"Then what ?" she asked kissing him again.

"Then back to Princeton, my apartment, my life, my job"

"Will things be different" she hesitated , "will you have changed ?"


End file.
